


Teeth

by marsistired



Category: Shingeki, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Agent Annie, Agent Colt, Agent Pieck, Angst, Angst and Feels, Assassin Yelena, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Implied pikuhan - Freeform, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, Pieck is also kinda insane, Slow Burn, Yelena's kinda insane, cat and mouse game, pikulena
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:08:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29047422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsistired/pseuds/marsistired
Summary: Pieck's an agent charged with the task of taking down an assassin by any means necessary. Including lethal force. Yelena is an internationally praised gun for hire. She's bold, intelligent, cunning. and Pieck's worst nightmare. When the two meet, they enter a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Yelena becomes a danger to the agent's wellbeing, drawing out the demons in the girl. Pieck doesn't realize until it's too late, once Yelena sinks her teeth into a target she doesn't let go.
Relationships: Hitch Dreyse/Annie Leonhart, Pieck Finger/Yelena
Comments: 20
Kudos: 70





	1. Suspect

The targets all had one thing in common, they were all strong prominent male figures. So far on the list were Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman, Nile Dok, and Theo Magath. They were all clean men until you looked further into them. For example, Smith was an average man. He went golfing on the weekends and enjoyed a good family vacation to the tropics. But, he was also the heir to his father’s money, gathered from years of running the country’s most notable newspaper corporation. Erwin had recently come under fire for having an affair with his wife and using his fortune to sway high profile schools to take on his son. To make a long story short, Erwin Smith was found dead in his own home clutching at his severed carotid artery as he drowned in his own blood. The press had reported it as a tragic and horrific “shaving accident”, but a specialty department apart from the local authorities was notified in silence. 

The department head was Hange Zoe, a prodigy in forensics having solved countless murder cases in their lifetime. Zoe assembled a grade A team for the case in a matter of days, consisting of Pieck Finger, Colt Grice, Porco Galliard, and Annie Leonhart. Porco had proven himself to be a master at all things technology. Time after time he has proven himself useful in weaving watertight false identities and tapping into surveillance systems. Annie was more of the puppeteer, working behind the scene as an extra mind for the department's field agents. When her role switched to being more hands on, she became an endless well of weaponry knowledge able to transform agents into weapons themselves

The three of them worked as a skeleton, holding together and supporting the real meat of the operation. The real pushing force behind them were the two field agents, Pieck Finger and Colt Grice. In the eyes of the department, Colt was a glamorized apprentice. He graduated at the middle of his college class. There was nothing particularly outstanding about him, but Hange had an eye on him since he found an interest in criminal affairs. The boy was on the younger side, but boasted a knowledge of psychology and human behaviors that rivaled seasoned veterans in the field. 

Pieck Finger was a special case. She was a small woman, standing at barely 5’1, and seemed unfit for this kind of work. Her eyes seemed too kind and tired to be witnessing all that she’s seen. However, she had the mind of a villain that the department had harnessed for good. Pieck was like a miracle worker. She had the capacity to seemingly guess where or when a new victim would pop up. But, they were never guesses. They were carefully and meticulously crafted theories that almost always proved to be right. Since she joined the department Pieck would spend countless hours working with Annie. Annie had created something almost like a switch in the other girl, making her able to shift from her kind and sympathetic side to a cold hearted one that seemed to lack the word “hesitation.”

The air in the apartment was cold and still, a manila folder laid on the dark gray bed sheets. A light creeped into the dim room from underneath the crack of the bathroom door. As it opened, the quiet room was flooded with the warmth and steam emitting from the bathroom. Footsteps muffled by slippers padded over to the bed and sat down, grabbing the folder with one hand. The agent held her towel around her body and the folder in her other hand. Her jet black hair was blow dried, neatly tucked away in a bun. 

The contents of the folder detailed the night’s operation, an infiltration of a masquerade themed banquet held by Mike Zacharius. In all honesty, Hange deployed Colt and Pieck on a whim. From what Porco had gathered, Mike was to be holding the banquet in celebration of receiving a large pharmaceutical company. Their target was most likely a high class assassin, able to take out high profile targets and infiltrate high events like these. With the money from the department both Pieck and Colt had been flown out to Paris, where the banquet was to be held. From what they knew it was to be held in the private venue of The Louvre Pyramid, a giant marvel in the heart of Paris. 

Pieck opened the folder and reviewed it’s contents one last time. It was a field mission, more like a sting operation, for a case she’s been tracking for months now. Her team was working under a specific mode of killing and a couple clips of collected crime scene CCTV. Their suspect was in her 20s, tall, blonde, and lethal. The thing about the killings that piqued her interest was that they were either hushed and almost silent or loud displays demanding attention. 

The agent stood and left her bath towel discarded on the bed beside the folder. She walked to the closet and opened the wood doors revealing her outfit for the night. It was a tight black floor length dress accented by a leg slit, strapless, and plunging at the back. Hanging on the hanger with it was her mask for the event, a black lace one more for looks than hiding her identity. Her focus shifted upward at the safe at the top of the closet. On her tiptoes, she reached up and grabbed her weaponry. It wasn’t something that was customary for this type of operation, but if she was dealing with a high class assassin she’d rather not go in unarmed. In her hands was a black nylon thigh harness, making her able to secure a knife underneath her dress. 

As she dressed she ran over the game plan in her head. The two of them were going to be separated, but always in a place where Mike was visible. Her and Colt were to mingle like a regular attendee, using codenames and fake employment. For the night her name was to be Michelle, an upcoming lawyer, and Colt would be James, a young architect sightseeing for inspiration. The department had supplied them a way to communicate via a small in ear speaker and a microphone about the size of a grain of rice. 

Pieck smoothed her dress out with the palms of her hands and looked at herself in the mirror. A hand found her hair, musing it and giving it a slightly messy look. She applied a dark red lipstick paired with mascara as she examined her reflection in the mirror. She stood still for a moment as she looked herself over. Her mind wandered to how Erwin Smith was killed. A simple cut to the carotid artery. Almost as if she was in a trance, a finger traced her jaw, gliding along the bone before moving slightly down. Light pressure was applied, enveloping her finger in the warmth of her own skin and pulse. It was something that was almost mystifying to her, just the fact that life was so fragile. It wouldn't take too much, only a shallow cut to the exact stop where her finger was at. A shallow cut that’d envelop her neck in the slick hot of her own blood. 

A sharp rap on her door made her jump, quickly dropping her hand back down to her side. She blinked hard and collected herself before walking to the door. A hand propped herself onto the door as she leaned up to the peephole. There stood her partner Colt, anxiously checking his watch as he stood outside the door. 

Pieck opened it and smiled at the boy, “Well don’t you look nice?” He wore a classic black and white suit, perfectly fitted to his body. Colt was the kind of person that paid attention to the smaller, finer things in life. It was obvious that the blonde boy had spent probably hours making sure that his outfit was near perfection. In his hand was his mask for the night, a half mask in the style of The Phantom of the Opera. It was dirty white, decorated with pale silver filigree. She thought about making a reference to the play, but decided not too. There was an age gap between the two of them and he probably wouldn't get the reference. His cufflinks were small silver wings, matching with the chain on his collar. Pieck took notice of them and motioned with her hands to her own neck, “I like your little collar thing.”

A blush rose to Colt’s cheeks as he looked down at his collar like he was unaware of what he was wearing. To an extent he was more of the reserved self conscious type and he wasn’t too keen on accepting compliments. But, he was on a job and that feeling alone filled him with confidence. He smiled back at Pieck, who was still standing in her doorway, and thanked her, “They were my father’s."

Pieck left her door and locked it behind her. She gave Colt one more onceover and her lighthearted tone dropped, “Do you have everything?” The boy stood there confused for a moment, but eventually got the message. His hand felt at the straps underneath his suit blazer. Over his white dress shirt were concealed straps, securing a pistol and extra magazine underneath his arm. He nodded at Pieck, coaxing a “Good” from the older woman’s lips. 

Her lighthearted tone returned and she put an arm over Colt’s shoulders, pulling the boy into a hug. “Now, try to at least have some fun tonight. Annie’s probably going to be tapping into our earpieces, but try to not let her get on your nerves. Have some champagne make a friend.” She tone dropped again as she moved to hold Colt at arms length, “But don’t you dare leave my sight. Have fun, but there’s basically a human weapon in the room. This is your first field operation and I’m going to make sure it’s not your last.”

Colt stuttered as he responded, “B- but you only have a knife? Aren’t I supposed to be the one keeping you safe?”

She laughed and smiled at him, “God the newer agents are always so cute. Don’t go underestimating me Grice, that’ll end up being your second mistake of the night.” Dumbfounded and trying to find his first mistake he stood in silence. The look on the younger agent’s face brought another laugh to Pieck’s lips. She let go of him and walked to the elevator, “God Colt, your fly’s down” 

Panicked, he looked down at his slacks and saw that, in fact, his pant's zipper was down. A quiet, “shit” left his lips as he heard the elevator door chime. His eyes shifted up as he fixed his pants. Pieck stood inside the elevator as she called out to him before the doors closed, “Take the next one! Don’t follow too close, we’ll regroup inside!”

The streets outside of the Louvre were lit by a series of streetlamps, bathing the waters of river Seine in a yellow light. Below the bustling roads was a small walkway by the river. It was popular with tourists and runners alike, but at night the place was nearly deserted. A man stood leaning against one of the many trees lining the path, tracing his finger along the numerous carvings on the trunk. It seemed to be a popular thing with tourists, made clear with little notes of years and sentiments like “E+A” surrounded by a heart. 

The man had a certain air of calm and still about him, as if the things happening around the world simply didn’t touch him. He was on the older side, with shaggy medium length blonde hair and a well kept beard. His outfit was a simple mix of earth tones; an open tan trench coat, dark green pants, and a white collared shirt slightly unbuttoned and exposing a small part of his chest to the warm night air. However, his most notable feature was his glasses. The gold color of the frames glimmered in the night lights. They were almost like aviator glasses, but more rounder. They were a design that was unique to him, not something you’d see at your yearly eye appointment. 

One of the man’s hands slipped into his jacket pocket, reemerging with a cigarette and Zippo lighter. The click of his metal lighter broke the night’s quiet air as he lit his smoke and brought it up to his lips. He closed his eyes as he sucked on the stick, slowly taking in the smoke and savoring the burn and tickle in his lungs. A sigh escaped his lips as he exhaled, taking the cigarette between his fingers and dropping the hand to his waist. 

A buzz in his pocket shook his body and his free hand fumbled for his phone. His device seemed outdated, but the flip phone served the purpose he needed. With a flick the device opened and his gruff voice sounded a slightly concerned, “Hello?” 

There was quiet on the other line with the sounds of people in the background. A voice appeared and spoke in a hushed cold tone, “Target has arrived.” 

The blonde man turned around, looking up at the building above him. The Louvre stood tall and proud, looming above him. His eyes scanned the exterior until he found the tip of the pyramid. Purple lights had begun to swirl with the yellow of the exterior lights, signaling that the event inside was almost ready to begin. “I’m assuming you’re going in?” His voice was met with more silence. Stressed, the man sighed and brought his hand to his forehead. As he sighed his free hand massaged at his temple, “Right, just stick to the plan. Don’t do anything reckless.”

A voice spoke from the other line with an almost audible smile on their lips, “I’m never reckless.” With that the line clicked dead. The blonde closed his phone and began to walk the riverside path. Whatever happened now was out of his reach and span of control.


	2. Emerald

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a warning this chapter has mentions of blood and slight gore

The glass panels of the Louvre Pyramid were illuminated with purple lights. The material spread the color and blanketed the room when in reality the amount of purple lights could be counted on your fingers. Pieck watched in silent amusement as Colt’s mouth opened in awe of the scene before. The banquet was filled with tightly dressed individuals with full champagne glasses in hand. At the left of the entrance was a second floor where Mike Zacharius would be speaking at once the night progressed. 

Pieck took the blonde boy’s hand in her own and led him deeper into the building. The chatter of seemingly infinite conversations filled the room as waiters weaved through the bodies carrying trays full of hor d’oeuvres or bottles of champagne. The two passed a table of empty champagne glasses and Pieck grabbed two with her free hand, one for Colt and one for herself. “Here, we’ll get it filled the next time one of the waiters comes around,” the blonde agent stared down at Pieck in a state of shock. Although his mask covered half of his face, the amazement and absolute shock was clear as day on his face. 

As they walked away from the table of glasses a young man approached them. He looked to be in his early 20s, a clean boy with tied up black hair and piercing emerald green eyes, “Madam, may I?” Champagne bottle in hand, the waiter motioned to the empty glasses. She eagerly agreed and watched as he poured the bubbles into her awaiting glass, “Mr. Zacharius has picked a wonderful blend for the night. A Moet & Chandon Grand Siecle Brut, a mix of sparkling Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and Pinot Meunier.” The green eyed boy moved to ask Colt the same question about his empty glass as Pieck held her's up to the light. The bubbles rose up slow and steady in the golden liquid. The younger agent brought his glass up to his mouth, sipping the drink inside. Pieck watched in amusement as Colt’s face screwed up in mild disgust. He swallowed and gave the woman a weak thumbs up and placed the still full glass on a table as the two walked away. 

The in ear monitors crackled in the agents’ ears before a voice penetrated the loud event hall. “Hello? This is Leonhart, Galliard has headquarters tapped into the Louvre surveillance. We have eyes on you.” Shuffling could be heard and another voice spoke into the monitors, “This is Director Zoe, your orders are to leave the second things go South. The department isn’t to be affiliated with any kind of civilian casualty. You two need to split up and cover as much ground as possible, if anything happens to Zacharius it’s on you two.”

With that final statement the lines of the monitors went silent again. Pieck turned to her partner and gave him her most reassuring smile, “Alright this is where we part. Not exactly how I wanted things to go, but you’re okay as long as they’re looking,” she pointed to the cameras lining the walls of the pyramid, “After Mr. Zacharius’ speech he’s supposed to be leaving. Once that ends the way it’s supposed to there’s no more stress on us. Just hold out until then, okay?” Colt nodded hesitantly and took a glance around the room. It was packed and he was doubting that he'd be able to find Pieck again in this kind of crowd, but he had his full trust in the rest of the department that was handling surveillance. 

Ice water splashed up from the metal basin as a half full champagne bottle was plunged into the cold. The contents of the tin basin splashed up onto his shirt making the man hiss as the ice water burned onto his skin. He kept walking deeper into the building’s kitchen, doing his best to dodge waiters quickly walking past him with their arms filled with bottles and platters of hor d'oeuvres. 

Towards the back of the bustling kitchen was a small locker room for all the working waiters. He was on his first break of the night, a small ten minutes that he could keep to himself. The room was reminiscent of a high school locker room with walls of lockers with wooden benches running between them. His hand plunged into the pocket of black dress slacks and came out with a key between his fingers. His index finger traced the numbers on the lockers as he tried to find the one assigned to him. Stopping at number 104, he lifted the lock from it’s hold and inserted the key. The lock clicked open and he caught it before it could hit the ground. 

The locker was a small square only able to hold a few choice things. He pulled out his shoes, a pair of black leather Gucci loafers, and set down on the wooden bench. They were his favorite pair of shoes, a result of countless nights of hard work that he’s put into his job. He took off his black non slip work shoes and put his loafers on in exchange. The man took a second item from the locker, but quickly shoved the item back in. 

He stood to his full height and walked the locker room. It was eerily silent and still, the only sound was the man’s lone footsteps. After ensuring that he was completely alone, he walked to the room’s door and clicked the lock shut. Only after taking these precautions did he take the item back out. It was a black nylon concealed holster. Contained inside was a standard issue pistol and a silencer He took the gun out and pressed the magazine release. It fell into his ready hands and he checked the two loaded bullets before reinserting the magazine. With a shake the silencer fell into his palms and he carefully screwed it onto the mouth of the pistol. He took great care in placing the gun back into the holster, making sure the safety was on and that the handle formed a flush straight line.

With the holster in hand he walked to the back of the room to where a few mirrors hung on the wall. He took the belt off of his pants and positioned the holster between his white dress shirt and pants. The gun was between the two materials and the man moved around into various positions to make sure that his weapon was properly concealed. Satisfied with his positioning, he fed his belt into the loops of his pants and into the awaiting loop of the holster, securing it to his waist. 

A hand moved up to his hair, pulling it out of its hair tie and letting it fall down onto his shoulders. He stared at his reflection in the mirror for a moment. His green eyes were hard as he fixated himself on the task at hand. He tied his hair up again, securing it in a small low seated bun. His hands smoothed the lines of his shirt and he let out a heavy exhale. He was done playing charades for the night and it was about time that he got to his actual job. He was here for one reason and one reason only. To eliminate Miche Zacharius. 

Pieck sat at the bar slowly sipping on a mojito. She liked to feel the luxury that came with a good bottle of champagne, but was quick to switch her drink once she found out that her host was providing an open bar. She liked her drinks on the sweeter side and she loved how the simple syrup, alcohol, and mint played together in her drink. She sat alone on one of the barstools looking out into the crowd of people. The bar was located on the second story of the event hall and if she squinted hard enough she could very faintly make out Colt’s blonde head in the sea of people. 

Her attention drifted away from her partner as a person sat down next to her. It was a woman that looked to be around her age. She was tall, a lot taller than Pieck, blonde, and wore a simple black and white suit. The blonde woman thanked the bartender as she received an old fashioned and turned away from the counter, looking out into the crowd. “Crazy amount of people, right?” The sudden conversation made Pieck jump in her seat, but she was quick to recover. 

The blonde woman was turned to her with a smile on her face. Pieck flashed a smile at her and gave her a quick response, she wasn’t too interested in conversation at the moment, “Yeah, the place is definitely packed.” The agent brought her drink to her lips as she heard the other woman speak again, “Do you know Mr. Zacharius personally or did he just try to shove every rich person in France into one room?” Pieck laughed at the question. It really did seem like every high profile person was shoved into a room and tied up with a prayer that they’d all get along. 

In her ear the earpiece crackled to life. Annie’s voice came into her ear, sounding vaguely tinny and electronic, “Galliard’s trying to run an I.D. on her. Don’t let her get any info out of you. Treat it as need to know, you’re with a bunch of high brows no one’s gonna look at you weird if you don’t carry on the conversation.” 

Pieck gave the woman a short response trying to close the pathway for conversation, “I’ve spoken to him once or twice. That’s all.” 

The blonde sat in silence with her as the two drank and looked into the crowd. She rotated her wrist, swirling the contents of her cup around and seemed to partly mentally leave the room. Her movements were focused and precise as if she had a certain goal or status to reach or uphold. 

To Pieck’s surprise the blonde woman suddenly finished her drink in one mouthful and stood up. She walked in front of Pieck and extended a hand, “Well, I’ve got to go. Nice meeting you, have fun tonight.” Pieck took the woman’s hand in her own. Her grip was cold and large on Pieck’s, full of power and a sense of dominance. Annie piped in again, “Try to get her name. Something about her doesn’t feel right” Pieck opened her mouth to ask, but was interrupted by the blonde, “Name’s Leah.” 

In a state of confusion Pieck watched Leah walk down the stairs to the lower level of the pyramid. Her eyebrows furrowed as she ran through possible explanations in her mind. Sure, it could be just another partygoer, but something about her definitely felt off. Annie’s voice in her ear offered her some degree of reassurance, “We’re tapping into Colt’s earpiece. He’ll be getting a heads up on her and Porco’s got eyes. No need to worry.”

For such a large event the bathroom was surprisingly empty. The green eyed man stood by himself in front of the line of sinks as he examined his reflection. It was thirty minutes until Miche was scheduled to speak and this was his best time to strike. As expected, the man of the hour stepped into the restroom and walked to a urinal. 

As the new CEO relieved himself, the other man walked to the door, locking the only exit. He waited for a moment waiting for Miche to finish. As the bulky blonde man zipped his trousers shut, the holster’s content was drawn. 

The faucet poured water as Miche emptied soap into his palms. The click of metal was faintly heard over the sound of the rushing water. The green eyed man took the pistol’s safety off and pulled the hammer back. His voice came out harsh, cold, and even, “Get down on your knees, now.” Miche turned to his and his eyes widened at the sight of a gun's muzzle staring at him. His wet hands began to shake as he followed the man's orders. He bent down on his knees, feeling the cold of the tiles seeping into his skin. The soap subs on his hands trailed down into the arms of his suit, leaving trails on his skin. 

Miche’s mouth was dry and his throat was closing in fear. His eyes were fixed on the bathroom tiles as the words tumbled out, dripping in pure fear, “W-who are you?” 

The green eyed man smirked at him. The power he felt coursed through his veins and fueled his cockiness. “Well I suppose you can know. You won’t live to tell anyone, will you?” His second sentence sent a visible wave of fear through Miche and the man above him let out a satisfied laugh. “My name’s Eren, but the people I work for know me as Emerald.” A smirk formed on his face as he motioned to his eyes, “Makes sense, doesn’t it?.”

Eren sauntered over to the man. He placed the gunmetal underneath Miche’s chin, lifting his head up. His once playful tone was gone, “When I ask someone a question, I expect an answer. Let’s try that again. It makes sense, doesn’t it?” The man beneath him nodded eagerly and gave him a series of audible yeses. 

The smile returned to the assassin’s face, “Good, good. It’s too bad that good behavior won’t get you out of this.” Eren stood and turned, walking a few feet in front of the blonde man. He raised his right arm, gun in hand, and squinted at Miche as he aimed down his sights. “I’ve never been an art kid, but I think you can give me the type of red that would match these bathroom walls.” 

Realizing what was about to happen, Miche began begging and pleading with the man in front of him. His voice was shaky and choked, “P-please don’t do this. I-I have money. I can get y-you whatever you want. Please I have kids.”

A loud boisterous laugh came from Eren. “Why do they always say that?! I don’t want your kids!.” Miche looked at the green eyed man in bewildered confusion. The tears filling his eyes were now spilling and trailing down his face. Eren smiled at him, But you know what? Don’t worry Mr. Zachairus, I’ll tell them Hi for you.”

Muffled by a silencer, a bang and the smell of gunpowder filled the air. Eren’s ears rang from the proximity as the bullet met its mark. With one simple clean shot the walls of the bathroom were sprayed in a sea of red. Shards of white bone and gray matter littered the floor and mirror. He looked down at the slumped body before him. A good quarter of Miche’s head was gone and blood was filling the tile grooves of the bathroom. Eren walked over to the sink. His loafers were sticking in the blood growing slowly tacky on the floor. A foot pushed the body out of the way. He laughed to himself, “Excuse me Miche, but I have places to be.” 

In the mirror, he pushed back his loose hairs. He sighed to himself as he saw the spray of blood on his white shirt. A pout formed on his lips, “Why are the rich ones always the messiest? I liked this shirt.” The sink turned on and the water ran brown as Miche’s blood flowed down the drain. Eren’s hands, now clean, pulled out a few paper towels and dried them off before tossing them into the waste bin like they were a small basketball. Vibrations ran through his thigh as the phone in his pants pocket went off. Hands still slightly wet, he brought his phone to his ear. With the press of the accept button, his voice came out annoyed and hollow, "Hello?" 

A woman's voice filled the other line. Her voice was deep and hard, words coming out sharp and snappy. "Where are you? You're not supposed to be doing anything except for playing lookout."

Eren's free hand rested in his pocket as he looked at the scene before him. There was no way that he could get himself out of this mess. Miche's blood was splattered all over the bathroom walls and even reached the ceiling above him. Trying to muster the little courage he had he laughed into the phone, "I know you're into more, like, visual things. Come to the West wing bathroom. But, you can't be mad I got the mission done for the both of us.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh things are starting to go to shit for the agents


	3. Two is Better than One

High marks were always important to the blonde boy in every way. In high school, he worked to be the captain or the advisor of everything he took part in. Once he hit his junior year, he began a dual enrollment program. He spent his nights at a local college and his free time studying. By the time he was a senior he was graduating valedictorian. The list of achievements he accumulated towered over his: captain of the varsity soccer team, advisor for debate club, and a associate's degree in criminal psychology at the age of 18. 

The department he now worked for had plucked him out of a bad situation. He was playing soccer for Harvard at the time and despite his achievements he was still the average young college idiot. His was a scholarship kid and nothing like the preppy boys on the soccer team. It was supposed to be a one time thing to get him to fit in, but after the first month Colt had developed a habit of smoking weed with his teammates. At the time, it seemed like a snapshot taken right out of some kind of coming of age movie or novel. But when it came to a team drug test, it seemed like a scene out of a horror movie. 

He had two options at that point. Give up his soccer scholarship with Harvard or to go with the rather mysterious individual he had met. Honestly, when he met Hange he was convinced that they were going to kidnap him. He was walking to a gas station near campus to buy a gallon of milk when he saw someone trailing him. They stopped him as he was picking up his milk. The cooler section of a gas station wasn't the ideal place for a job interview, but something about it looked him. The figure introduced themself as Hange Zoe and according to them, the department they worked for had an eye for young talents and had been watching him since he graduated. Admittedly, he was too young for this kind of job. Too young to be putting his life on the line. But, looking back at it, he knew that it was one of those things that were just meant to happen. 

The young agent’s brown eyes darted around the room. Headquarters had tapped into Colt’s earpiece just moments before, telling him that there was a suspicious figure spotted. According to Annie, the figure was a tall blonde woman that was last seen heading his direction. His hands were shaking, half out of fear and half out of excitement. He did his best to still himself and out of the corner of his eye he saw a blonde woman start to shoulder past the crowd. The woman fit the bill perfectly. Blonde, seemingly cocky, and she stood tall among the seemingly normal party goers around her. 

Colt trailed close behind her, closing the gap but also keeping some space between them. In his mind he began formulating some kind of plan. She had the kind of confidence that he lacked; it would probably work out in a way of him fake asking for directions. He could play the bumbling idiot well enough. He could feel the warmth of the bodies he pushed past and it filled him with a strange kind of giddiness.

The woman was walking at a brisk pace. She was either too confident to look behind her and check if anyone was trailing or she was innocent. Colt wasn’t one for betting, but he’d put his money on the first outcome. Headquarters was silent in his earpiece. It was unsettling to him, but he trusted them no matter what. If they promised to have eyes on his they’d have eyes on him. 

Headquarters was a large room in an even larger building. Daily, the team had to pass through security measures before they could even think about going to go do their jobs. At the entry way there were metal detectors and armed guard along with the idea badge scanner that unlocked doors to lead them further into the building. They had a personal office space that was secluded from the other departments. It was up on the building's third floor and a singular window gave them a view of the city beneath them. There was a large desk at the front of the room where Hange, the team’s director, usually sat. There were four other smaller desks, one for each team member. Colt and Pieck’s were both neatly cleaned off while Porco’s was messy and littered with sticky notes covered in his messy handwriting.

The room was occupied by two agents at the moment. Porco had stepped out, the team had a probably unhealthy dependence on caffeine and Porco acted as their dealer. 

The director sat at their desk, legs propped up and leaning back as they watched the screens while Annie stood staring at the three mounted wall monitors. On them was a live feed of the events playing out. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest and her thumb between her teeth. Nothing about the scene seemed right and it was starting to weigh on her. She hasn’t said anything about it yet, but there was someone else that wasn’t fitting into her mind. 

Close to ten minutes ago she watched a man leave the bar area and head downstairs. He was a tall man with average features, perfect for getting lost in the crowd. His hair was tied up and he wore a simple white dress shirt tucked into black slacks. It was the usual attire for the waiters at the banquet and the man’s lack of apron made it seem like he was off work for the night. Everything about him was average except for the way he walked. His hands were buried in his pants pockets and his steps had a kind of almost appalling swagger. The final note of suspicion was minute and hardly noticeable. He seemed to smile at the cameras before he walked down the stairs. 

He walked past the bar as Pieck and the blonde women were talking. If Annie were able to play it back she’d bet that the woman’s eyes moved to make quick eye contact with him. She couldn’t prove that hunch, but she did have the power to do something about it. Technology definitely wasn’t her strong suit and she’d have to wait until Porco came back.

Blue eyes were hard and fixated on the screen as the door creaked open. The sound was harsh and eerie as it broke the calm, but a cheerful "Hello" brought the mood back up. Annie looked over her shoulder and watched as Porco closed the door behind him. It looked as if he was close to dropping the hard paper cup holder as he pushed the door closed with his foot. 

He carefully placed a coffee onto Hange’s desk and walked to place another on Annie’s. Her desk was the only really empty one. Pens, pencils, and highlighters were neatly sorted into a plain white mug adorned with the department’s logo. She seemed to be more emotionally distant and quiet than anyone else on the team, but they were all aware of how deeply she cared for all of them

The only real personal item was a picture frame. Tender love and care wasn’t something that Annie showed to the department, but she showed it to her fiancee. Her partner was a slightly taller woman with light brown hair falling to her shoulders and a smile that melted Annie’s usual steely demeanor. Her name was Hitch, a second grade teacher and the complete opposite of Annie. The picture was from Hitch’s first day at work. The team members were somehow dragged into helping decorate the classroom and somewhere in the chaos Pieck snapped a picture of Hitch reaching up to hang something from the ceiling as Annie looked up at her as she held the ladder. The smile on Annie’s face was the brightest part of the picture, the crinkles around her eyes were a rare sight and the picture captured the warmth that the couple had perfectly. 

As Porco set the coffee cup down onto Annie’s desk, he stopped for a moment to look at the picture. A smile crossed his face as he took in the details. Taking his eyes from the photo to Annie, the cardboard drink holder was dropped into the trash can and he walked up to where she stood. He looked her up and down and mirrored her expression, arms crossed over his chest and brows furrowed. 

Not taking her eyes from the screen Annie commented on the man’s stance, “Galliard. Don’t go mocking me.” 

The man let out a laugh and raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. He smiled at her, “You do know that we have chairs right? You have your own desk to sit at and I even brought you coffee.” Annie’s stance didn’t shift and he raised an eyebrow at her. The agent was biting the tip of her thumb as she watched the monitors, an almost tell tale sign that something was bothering her. 

Before he could ask what was on her mind Annie spoke up, “There’s two of them.” Porco wasn’t understanding where she was going, but nevertheless he listened. “There’s two targets. Probably working together or at least working for the same organization with the same objective.” 

Annie walked over to Porco’s desk and opened the man’s laptop. He followed behind her and entered his password when she looked up at him. “You’re recording all of this, yes?” He nodded, “Go to around 20:30.” The image of the bar materialized on the scene. The audio coming out was Pieck’s gentle voice and the bustle of the crowd around them. Annie’s right hand moved along the keyboard, muting the video and slowing it down. 

Behind them, Hange stood from their desk and walked over to watch over the two agents' shoulders. Suddenly Annie paused the video and pointed at a tall man passing by the surveillance camera, “There, it’s him. He’s in on something.” She looked up at Porco, “Tell Colt to find him and try to get something out of him. Tell Pieck too, but tell her to keep her distance he was eyeing her earlier.” As Porco tapped into the field agents earpieces Annie stayed examining the screen. The frame stopped at the man's smile, haunting and chilling as his eyes seem to stare directly at her. Something about this wasn’t right and it felt like only a matter of time until it all went downhill. 

The conversation was muted and faint from the distance, “Look, just keep eyes out for me. I know you’re mad at me right now, but we’ll talk once I get some cover. There’s a car a few blocks away and we can black out the cameras. Just meet me there.”

There was a small cleared area with water fountains in the hallway leading to the bathrooms. Colt had followed the woman and stopped in the alcove as soon as he heard the door open. Whatever hunch Annie made at headquarters was right, there were two of them. He wasn’t exactly in the position that he needed to be in. Yes he was armed, but a pistol wouldn’t be worth anything in a showdown with two probably highly trained assassins. 

There was a faint click that made Colt’s heart drop. He recognized the sound, a magazine being released from a pistol. The man’s voice sounded again, “Here, there’s one bullet. Just for emergencies, okay? Don’t start getting trigger happy.”

The woman responded, “Can’t make any promises. I’ve already met someone that’s caught my interest, you know how I can get.” Colt’s heart sunk even further, Pieck was in some kind of danger. The two figures exchanged short laughs and went back to their discussion. The blonde boy leaned against the wall and put his head in his hands. He rubbed at his temples, “Think Colt just think.” He had to do something. There was no way he could win in a hand to hand fight, but they had one bullet. He had a whole magazine. The back door creeped open and he felt the night’s cold air faintly kiss his skin as his hands dropped down to his sides again. He was going to follow them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At bit of a late update, but it's here. Also a bit late, happy Valentine's Day! Thank you for reading (:

**Author's Note:**

> New fic! I started this one as a break from Dynasty because I burnt myself the hell out. But! I have really high hopes for this idea so hopefully it'll all go as planned. Thank you for reading!


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